


Regrets

by Cycian



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 05:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cycian/pseuds/Cycian
Summary: You used to be a criminal, but those days are long gone. You joined Overwatch, and changed your ways. But during a mission with Zarya, a ghost from the past comes back and threatens to shatter the life you've made for yourself.





	Regrets

When Zarya first saw you, she immediately crushed, hard, which earned her a playful shove from Fareeha. Your eyes carried such strength, your aura told what words couldn’t: you were a warrior. She loved your courage and your stubbornness, she admired your strength. She had a hard time believing Athena when she told her about your background. Aleksandra never quite liked criminals, even if her time in Overwatch with people coming from different places, criminals such as Junkrat and Roadhog, scientists such as Winston or Mei… Overwatch told her how to be more open minded and tolerant, even in her views about the omnics. She now tolerated Bastion and Zenyatta, which was quite an improvement.  
You liked Zarya. You didn’t hide it, it was pretty obvious to everyone. Except Zarya, whom was as oblivious as can be. You worked out with her each morning, complimented her on her physique, but still, she was really dense when it came to flirting. Even Fareeha could see it, and it was the funniest thing in the world to her.  
“Hey Aleks, my hands feel kinda heavy, can you carry them for me?” This was cheesy, but perhaps she’d finally understand.  
“Really? We need to take you to Angela’s office then, this does not seem normal.” She looked honestly concerned. In the background, Pharah was doubling over with laughter, followed suit by Reinhardt, who agreed that even he wasn’t so blind to flirting.  
“Zar, was you father a thief? Because he stole all of the sky’s stars to put them in your eyes.” You winked, but sighed as you had the feeling that she wouldn’t get this one either.  
“Why, no, my father was a respectable soldier, why would anyone steal stars?” You were tempted to repeatedly bash your head on the nearest surface available, but decided to keep your cool.  
But you knew you stood a chance. You saw it in the way she always held the door open for you, always brought a healthy lunch for the both of us, in how it was hard for her to detach her eyes from yours. It was obvious that she was interested in you, and you were interested in her. But you wanted her to take a hint.  
Easier said than done.  
After a while, you decided to gradually make her understand with gestures rather than words, since Aleksandra seemed to struggle with that part. After particularly hard missions, you’d massage her shoulders, you’d tell her about some memories you were willing to share. She always listened. Even when she wasn’t particularly vocal, you knew you had her undivided attention.  
You both enjoyed this routine of taking care of each other, and step by step, you were walking towards… something.  
It was another mission. It was supposed to be just another mission. Zarya enjoyed being sent out on missions with you, you worked in harmony and synergy, both of your fight styles complementing the other’s.  
This synergy shattered when this poor guy’s mask shattered under a particularly hard hit from the Russian soldier. You heard his scream. It felt like a glacial shower, suddenly, everything was cold. You finished the rest of them, thinking that every single one of these dead fellas could’ve been you. You then ran towards the broken body. You hoped you were wrong, you hoped your mind was just playing tricks on you. You gently took off what was left of his mask, and was left to gaze upon a devastated face, covered in blood and tears, you could see your former friend didn’t leave this world right as Zarya landed her final blow. He suffered. Everything was cold. It was cold when your hands shook him, desperately trying to bring him back. It was so cold you didn’t feel the tears that run down your face. He was dead. Pieces of memories, shattered, soiled with blood. This guy taught you how to shoot a gun, for fuck’s sake. He was dead. He taught you how to fight. He protected you against ill-tempered gang members. He taught you to make the most out of each and every situation. He was dead. His blood was on your hands, on your pants, on your shirt. It was all over you, suffocating. You didn’t know if you were sobbing or gagging. You felt a hand on your shoulder. Aleksandra Zaryanova. At this exact moment, you didn’t see Aleks, who brought you lunch, who helped you stretch, who was such a ray of sunshine in your life. You saw Zaryanova, who brutally murdered your mentor.  
“You fucking killed him! You monster!” You lashed out, your eyes spilling angry tears. Aleksandra looked really hurt, as if you had physically hurt her.  
“I trusted you! You murdered him! Like an animal! Do you have any idea what he meant to me!?” You screamed out, getting up painfully. You pointed an accusing finger on the Russian.  
“Why would you do this!? What did I do to deserve this!?” Zarya’s face grew sadder and sadder, until she brutally snapped to a colder position, as if she was hiding her emotions.  
She spoke, softly, slowly, her voice thick with her accent.  
“I will make sure he is buried with the honours,”  
“You don’t even fucking mean it. You soldiers and policemen are all the same, you kill us off like flies, as if we weren’t humans, as if we were nuisances. I thought you were different! How do I even know you ain’t gonna bash open my skull?” You growled at her.  
“You don’t even think he’s worthy. You probably don’t even think I’m worthy. To you I’m just another criminal, like Junkie or Sombra?” She didn’t answer.  
“I want to bury him with the honours. Because you thought he was worthy. Because I respect your judgement.” She said, simply.  
You stormed off, hiding your tears from her.  
Word travelled fast around the base. From what Fareeha told you, Zarya was damn near inconsolable. She worked out to keep in shape, and spent the rest of her day doing unnecessary manual labour, or stared at the horizon.  
You didn’t care. He was dead. Everything was cold. 

In the middle of the night, it was about 4 AM, you couldn’t sleep, haunted by dreams and memories you thought you had buried a long time ago. You heard a knock on your door. You opened. It was Zarya. She was carrying a basket. She let it in the ground. You closed the door behind you, and rested against it.  
“What do you want, Zaryanova?” You asked, coldly. She blinked, once, twice. And dropped to her knees.  
“I am sorry, Y/N. I am so sorry for your loss, and I am sorry I killed someone who meant so much to you. Just because our past is different does not mean that your life or his was worthless. I am sorry I am an idiot. I do not want you to hate me. I miss you dearly. I miss you every second of every minute of every hour. I hear your voice when you are not here, I smell you when you are away. What is between us is precious to me. I do not want to lose you. I apologize. If you let me, I will listen to you talk about him. He was an enemy, yes, but if I had known, I would have let you deal with him.” She closed her eyes, resting her head against your stomach.  
“Forgive me. I beg.” You knew how much this had cost her. She was proud. She was fierce. She was none of those things without you by her sides. She had learned to depend on you.  
“On one condition…” You smiled, Sombra was probably watching while munching on some popcorn.  
“Anything you want, anything,”  
“Kiss me.” She got up, and tenderly held you in her arms, as if you were made of crystal, and kissed you, pouring all of her gentle soul into it.


End file.
